He getsthatlook. “Are you arguing with me, pet?”
Let the battle of wills begin. I’m not sure if Carter actually gets off on waiting me out. I think he does, at least a little.
Okay, maybe more than a little.
Saaaadist,duh.
Ofcoursehe gets off on waiting me out. He never has to “force” me to do anything, outside of our dark and twisted play. I do too damn good a job of forcing myself and refusing to buckle, and he knows it.
I crack first and look at my laptop screen. After I click the button to complete the purchase, I add Carter as a recipient of a confirmation e-mail with the boarding pass information.
“Okay,” I say. “Three round-trip tickets to Las Vegas. Done.”
He picks up his phone and checks his e-mail, then slowly nods. “Very good, pet. Thank you.” He’s paying for the hotel and rental car, among other things.
“How is this helping him, again?” I ask.
“I need to forcibly jolt Owen out of this last little rut he’s stuck in about his mother. The timing happens to work out perfectly.” He sets his phone on the coffee table and points for me to do the same with my laptop.
I do.
He starts rubbing my feet. “His father’s told me a few interesting things about their divorce.”
“Such as?”
“Owen says his mother took great pride in griping that his father never paid child support past the first few months or so.”
“Yeah?”
“He did pay. Until Owen turned eighteen. Not only paid, but because of their prenup, it was way more than the state-mandated rate. He also told me he sent Owen birthday and holiday cards, letters, left phone messages. According to Owen, he’s had very little contact with his father, all of it initiated by himself, not his father.”
My eyes widen. “She’s been lying to Owen?”
“Yep.”
“Does he know yet?”
“Nope.”
It’s hard to focus with his thumbs skillfully kneading my feet. “What else has she been lying to him about?” I muse.
“A narcissist like her? God only knows.”
He teases me by pausing over the pressure point in my foot that feels like agony and simultaneously makes me totally wet when he hits it. His fingers move on without torturing me tonight.
“Probably a lot,” he adds. “Assume she’s lied to him about everything, because it’s sort of what they do. Right now, if I forced Owen to make a choice, I am not totally certain he’d choose us over her. He’s still too afraid. I need to get him so enraged that it outweighs his fear and he can’t help but turn his back on her for good and choose us over her.” He meets my gaze. “Then, he’s ours for life.”
I swallow hard, nervous, but determined to see this through. “Daddy’s going to want to hire a hit man for you when he finds out.”
Carter smiles. “Then I suppose we’d better take out a life insurance policy on me, shouldn’t we, pet?”
“How can you even joke like that?”
His smile fades. “I’m not afraid of death, sweetheart. I’ve seen it, dealt it. My only fear is long, slow suffering I have to endure. Death? That’s easy. Surviving is difficult. Surviving is the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”
“What if he tries to ruin your life?”
He shrugs. “Then I guess you’ll be supporting me and Owen. If your father’s a smart man, he’ll back off. Your trust is safe, your car and house are owned by the trust. After we graduate law school, we’ll put a postnup in place, if you want. But eitheryoutrust me, or you don’t. Ifyoudon’t trust me, say so now. I’m not getting divorced.”
